


Swim In The Water That's Breaking Your Levee

by Storyofmythigh



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Uni AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:03:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5093459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storyofmythigh/pseuds/Storyofmythigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis listens to pop punk.<br/>Harry listens to Louis.</p>
<p>It becomes a thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swim In The Water That's Breaking Your Levee

The one thing Louis hates the most about not having friends at University is that he has no one to talk to. He speaks maybe 10 sentences a day, if he's lucky, and most of those are to his professors or to the girls taking his order at the coffee shop. It's gotten to the point that when he goes home and talks to his mum and laughs with his sisters, he loses his voice because it's no longer adjusted to being used so much. It's ridiculous.

He so wants to drop out. And he would, except, he doesn't know if he could handle the looks on his family's faces when he told them. He has to at least make it through one semester. It's just until December. Then he can reconsider this whole "getting a decent education so you can get a job when you graduate" thing.

His one solace, for the time being, is music. It's a blessing to live in an environment where everyone walks around wearing headphones, ignoring each other and it isn't considered excessively rude. Every time he walks to class, to the nutrition center, to his advisor's office, to the library, he takes the chance to blast angry, angsty music into his ears.

Neck Deep, Real Friends, The Story So Far. Turnover, The Wonder Years, Brand New. Citizen, Man Overboard, The Starting Line. Louis almost has to avoid pizza and flannel shirts just so he won't feel overwhelmingly like a cliché. He stopped listening to this music when he was 14, but through everything he's been through in the last few months, his interest has become revived. The earlier music tastes, the lyrics nailing exactly how he felt, it's almost like a security blanket. And it's loud enough to block out the sound of everyone around him.

The first day Louis forgets his headphones, he's unbelievably cranky. He has a class that ends at 2, and one that starts at 3. It's enough time that he'd be awkwardly early to English if he left the science building now, but it's not enough time for it to be worth it to walk back to his room and then to English immediately after. It's just an hour, though. Really, more like 45 minutes, because he does like to be early to English. It's fine. He can make it without his musical buffer to the outside world.

Except, maybe he can't. He's managed to snag a table for himself in the crowded café in the economics building, which happens to be between his two classes of the day. He comes here often because of its convenient location, but he hasn't been properly exposed to what it's like when he's not wearing headphones. As it turns out, it's very noisy and irritating.

Two girls at the table next to him are loudly discussing their Chemistry homework. Everyone in line at the till seems to have something to talk about. Even the employees behind the counter keep up a friendly banter as they work to meet the demands of the students. Louis would normally be jealous of everyone else for having someone to talk to, but right now, he just wants everyone to be quiet so he can finish his History reading in peace.

Things change when tables run out and Louis, being one person sat at a table with four chairs, is asked to share.

It's a boy. A very, very pretty boy, Louis can't help but notice. He's got mermaid curls, sparkly eyes, and lush lips that he keeps biting into. And Christ, he's tall.

"D'you mind if I sit with you? It's just there's nowhere else at the moment..."

Louis' dumbfounded by how deep this boy's voice is. He nods, pretending to go back to his reading when his cheeks flame. The boy just takes the chair opposite and opens his laptop, apparently getting to work on something.

Louis spends 45 minutes sneaking glances at the unreal creature he's sat with. It's impossible how gorgeous he is, especially when he shouldn't be. His features aren't made to match, should leave him looking awkward and gangly. And yet, here he is, looking like a Botticelli painting in a hoodie.

He's so distracted that when he finally does have to make himself leave for class, he accidentally leaves his book on the table. He doesn't even notice, still too wrapped up in thoughts of chocolate curls and emerald eyes, until the boy from inside rushes out and catches up with him. Louis stares when his book is awkwardly held out to him.

"Um, you forgot your book. I thought you might need it."

"Oh. Thanks." Louis takes the book. He needs it for his next class, so he's extra grateful for this kind and pretty person with the gravelly voice and giraffe legs who followed him out to return it.

"No problem, mate. Are you in Elizabeth Brady's English lecture, by any chance? It's just that I am and we're going over that same book, and I wondered. And I think I've seen you around before, but I haven't paid too much attention, you know."

He's a rambler. Louis would normally be irritated. But he's not; he's endeared.

"Yeah, I am. Going to it now, actually, if you'd like to walk with me. Maybe you can catch me up on the reading. I fell asleep before I could finish it last night." Louis normally would be a bit shyer, but he's honestly so pleased just to talk to someone that his voice comes out easy, naturally. It helps that the other boy's face lights up with Louis' offer.

"Yeah, alright. 'm Harry, by the way."

"Louis."

And so Harry tells Louis how Mina's beginning to transform like Lucy did, and how the men are trying to find the count so they can kill him, once and for all. It takes Harry the whole walk just to tell one chapter, his voice slow and his thoughts a bit spaced, but Louis' never been more captivated in his entire life.

After class, Harry catches up with him again, asks him where he lives and if he'd like to walk back together, if he doesn't have anymore classes together.

"Center Hall 2. You?"

Harry manages to look amazed at this, like he hasn't heard better news all week. "Same, actually."

They talk more on the way back to the dorms. Louis tells Harry he's majoring in music education, that he doesn't see his roommate very much, and that he might study abroad in the future. He doesn't mention that he might drop out. It suddenly isn't even on his mind.

Harry tells Louis that he's an English major with a focus in creative writing. He goes off on several tangents explaining why, so Louis learns more than he could have expected from an answer to just one question. Harry's sister went to university for a few years, but she's mostly just traveling now. His mum doesn't approve, but she did the same when she was young, so she doesn't say much. His mum is the BEST person in the whole world, did you know? She owns a bakery, that Harry used to work in before he moved away from school. He liked working there and might go back when he's graduated. Or maybe he'll open his own bakery, and make it a Shakespeare-themed bakery.

Louis has to cut in at that. "Suppose you could just put poison in everything you bake, think that would work with Shakespeare's plays?"

Harry laughs startlingly loud. It warms Louis from his head to his toes. He's warm long after he and Harry go to their separate floors in the building. His roommate, Liam, comes in late after practice and asks him about his day. And for once, Louis has an answer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's a thing, after that. They meet at the café before their English lecture, they study together, they eat together, and they talk together. That's the part Louis likes the most.

He loves to listen to Harry's voice. He loves when it's gruff in the morning, when it cracks when he's tired, when each gravelly syllable spoken is like a line of fire in Louis' veins. He doesn't even really understand what Harry's talking about half the time, honestly. He talks about school, and about music and his family, but he also talks a lot of nonsense. Louis once listened to him go on about the muppets for 30 minutes before he realized how ridiculous the one-sided conversation was. But he listened anyway, always.

And Harry listens to Louis. He listened to Louis talk about what his friends back home are like, what his sisters are up to, about his mum's new job at the hospital. He talks about the concerts he'd like to go to, the cities he'd like to see, and everything he's ever dreamed of doing. If they stay up late enough, Louis will even open up about not really wanting to be at school anymore (although being around a pretty boy for the majority of the day is changing that) and about being scared of the future.

"I picked music education because it always seemed like something I could handle, but I don't even know if it's what I really want to do. I don't know if I want a job like that. I might want to travel a bit, or to work for a design company. I really don't know. I still feel too young to decide anything permanent."

When Harry listens, it's almost scary how intense he gets. It's like he's listening with more than his ears; like his eyes and his skin are also absorbing everything. He's so quiet and concentrated, making sure he pays attention to every single word. Like he's trying to make sure Louis knows he's being heard.

Louis notices how Harry takes it all in. He wonders if he does that for everyone, and how much of everyone else's baggage he's carrying. He worries after him a little.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The pair had quickly overcome physical boundaries, with Harry grabbing Louis' hand when he's dragging him somewhere, with Louis' loving little swats when Harry's especially ridiculous, with the way the two seem to naturally gravitate towards each other, like magnets.

The boundaries become crushed when Harry gets sick.

Louuuuu<3: why were you not in class today, Harold? I was so lonely without you. Like Rapunzel waiting on her prince.

Hazza: sick, couldn't make it. homework?

Harry's clipped response is what makes Louis truly begin to worry. Harry generally texts like he talks, and he's always up for teasing and flirting.

Louuuuu<3: next 5 chapters of reading. shall I bring by the notes? wouldn't want you getting too behind

Hazza: don't know if you're ready to see me like this

Louuuuu<3: nonsense. be by in a bit with the notes

Louis comes by Harry's room around 7, with the notes and a mug of tea and a pack of sweets. He really wasn't ready to see Harry like this, as it turns out.

Harry looks wrecked, is the thing. Not just like he's sick, but like he's been crying for days. Louis had grown so accustomed to the ever-present grin, the smiley eyes, and the occasional dimple. The red eyes, pale skin, and the miserable look that greeted him were extremely unnerving.

"Christ, what happened to you?"

Harry shrugs weakly and lets Louis in. "Been a rough day, I guess."

He looks so heartbreakingly fragile that Louis wants nothing more than to put him to bed with a warm blanket and to protect him from everything bad in the world.

"I brought the notes. And tea," Louis offers weakly.

"Thanks for that." Harry takes the tea, but it's like he instantly forgets it's in his hands. He sits by the pillows on his bed, making room for Louis, and doesn't raise the cup to his lips.

"Are you sure you're sick? You look a bit..." He doesn't quite know the right word for it. Despondent, maybe. Emotionally upheaved. Crushed. Harry's the English major, not Louis. He's not so good with words.

"'m sure. Should be fine tomorrow."

He's quiet after that, and Louis isn't really sure what to say. He won't press the matter, not right now. Even though Harry is very clearly not telling him something.

"Hope you will be. Class is no fun without you."

Harry smiles the tiniest bit at that, but in the same moment, he manages to look like he's on the verge of breaking down completely.

"Harry, when did you last sleep?"

"Last night, a bit. I couldn't stay asleep very long. Been trying to nap all day but it won't happen."

He looks at Louis, actually meeting his eyes and seeing him for the first time since Louis had knocked on his door.

"Will you lay down with me?"

It's such an earnest request. Louis can see the need for sleep, for comfort written all over Harry's face.

"Yeah. Of course."

He gets Harry all tucked under the covers and is only mildly startled when he curls up right against him, Harry's face pressed to Louis' neck. Louis just puts an arm over Harry and holds him close.

"Thanks f'r this, Lou," comes a faint mumble from under his chin.

"No problem," he replies softly. In minutes, Harry is fast asleep, snoring gently. Louis falls in love with everything in that moment.

And if Niall comes in the room later to find the pair still wound tightly together in bed, well. It's between the three of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Louis keeps coming up with more questions, and he gets no answers. When Harry wakes up, he insists he was just sick. When his phone buzzes relentlessly during class, he turns it off and ignores Louis' question of who's texting so much.  
When he shows up everyday with growing under-eye circles, bitten lips, and weary eyes, he just tells Louis he's still having some problems staying asleep. When Louis asks why, Harry changes the subject.

Louis grows insatiably curious. He's told Harry almost everything about himself, and he doesn't know why Harry doesn't trust him enough to even hint at what's really going on. It's driving him up the wall to see Harry suffer and diminish, and to not even be able to do anything to help.

He gets his answers when Harry drags him out for coffee.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Remind me again why we're at a poetry reading."

"It's required for one of my writing classes and you said you'd come with me," Harry answers evenly. He seems to be in a funny mood tonight; calm, and yet, like he could drop off the plane of existence at any moment and not be even slightly bothered by it. "I have to read something and review two other pieces or I fail the assignment."

Louis knows this, but he's being a little shit anyway. Harry's mood is putting him on edge, making him nervous, and he's acting out on it, quietly heckling the worse poetry under his breath and pouring extra sugar packets into Harry's tea when he isn't watching. He doesn't mind being here, really. He just wishes Harry would get back to normal, so they could share church giggles during the readings and get on with a cheerier night.

Harry has to read, eventually. When he's standing up in front of everyone, piece of crumbled-up notebook paper in his hand that he isn't even looking at, he doesn't seem nervous at all, just ready to get it over with. Louis, however, is fucking antsy. He's read parts of Harry's essays before, but he's never been allowed to see any personal writings. He knows it'll be good, like everything else Harry produces. He's just scared of what Harry could possibly write about.

When Harry starts speaking, in his stupidly low voice, everyone falls silent.

"Our love was skinny for almost 5 years  
I bit my lip quiet when you chased younger souls  
He was 16 and pretty while I was 18 and wasted  
You loved him even on my birthday  
Our love was fat for only 6 months  
I starved away 30 pounds and 20 years and everything you felt for me  
I wasn't big enough to hold you down  
You weren't big enough to go around  
Lie in your room and think of your boy  
I'll lie in mine and wish I hadn't met you as a child  
So what if we never talk again?  
I've talked about you so much my throat is sore and my voice is wrecked  
And I was barely worth your whisper  
But someone else will shout my name from the top of a city  
I'll crush your vision to make room for their voice in the sky"

Louis thinks you're supposed to snap at a poetry reading, but everyone claps. Harry doesn't look even remotely pleased. He looks miserable. So miserable that he ducks out the door as soon as he's out of the spotlight. Louis pushes past the crowd to get to his boy.

Harry's standing against the brick outside, tears streaming down his cheeks while he makes futile efforts to wipe them away. Louis doesn't think he's ever seen someone look so heartbroken.

"What was that?"

Harry's head snaps over to look at Louis, surprised by his voice.

"It was-" he hiccups around a sob, trying to talk through his tears. "It was nothing."

Louis sighs, but he doesn't want to put Harry in any more distress. "It's alright if you're not ready to talk about it."

Harry's frighteningly quiet for a minute after Louis says that. His chest heaves gently as he tries to stop crying.

"I don't know if I'll ever be ready."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry goes missing for a week. Louis can't say he's surprised. He just wishes Harry would call him or send even just one text letting him know where he is, and if he's okay.

All week long, without even thinking about it, he reverts back to who he was that first stretch of time alone at uni. Before Harry. He doesn't talk, he blocks everyone out, he doesn't do much except go to class and zone out.

No one can help, is the thing about it. Not even Niall knows where Harry is.

"Sorry mate, no idea. 'e wasn't there when I woke up Sunday. I thought he was with you, t' be honest."

And so it goes. Niall does find Louis when he figures out that Harry left his phone behind, and that's why he isn't answering anyone.

Louis doesn't think he's ever been more lost in his whole life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry's back the next week. Saturday night/Sunday morning, 3:27 AM, he's knocking on Louis' door. Louis lets him in, too relieved to see him to be cranky about being woken up. They're just lucky Liam's out for the weekend.

They sit on Louis' bed until Harry's ready to talk. It's almost tense between them, how it's never been before.The whole time, Louis feels like he's holding his breath, dying to take whatever happened to his boy and to try to make it right. Dying to let him know that whatever happened, whatever someone said to him or did to him, he's still the loveliest person in the whole world and Louis would be nowhere without him. Dying to make him feel better.

"I can't say his name," Harry finally says into the dark of the room. His voice is impossibly rough. He's been crying, Louis can tell.

"You don't have to say his name."

"We 'd always known each other, since we were six. We dated for a bit when we were younger, 'round 15. Then he broke up with me. But we stayed best friends, I guess. I don't think I ever stopped loving him, even though I was so, so mad at him."

Harry lets out a breath and looks up, like it'll help him be able to talk.

"He wanted to try again, right before graduation. I fell for it and went along with everything. Except, then he wasn't interested anymore. I came back from a holiday with my family and he was with someone else. A fucking 16 year old kid."

"Jesus Christ," Louis murmurs.

Harry nods. "So I quit talking to him, finally. I should have the first time we were over, but I couldn't. And he took everything. He took all of our friends and he took everywhere I used to go and everything we used to do. I had nothing, except that I knew I'd move out and go away to school. And then he tried to take that too."

"What do you mean?"

"This was supposed to be my place, where he'd never been and he'd never come. I was starting to be okay again, I was over everything that happened. Except he showed up one day and said he wanted to talk. And I let him."

"Oh, Haz..."

"And he kept texting me and saying he was sorry and he wanted to get back together and I'm so disgusting, Lou. A part of me wanted to go back to him."

"But you didn't."

Harry sniffs and shakes his head, a small motion. "No. I didn't, because of everything he did when we dated the first time. Even with all that, I still wanted to, though. It's pathetic."

Louis feels sick when Harry says this. He almost doesn't ask, scared of the answer, but he makes himself do it. "What do you mean, exactly? What happened when you first went out?"

Harry's a cacophony of fidgeting while he answers, dragging it out slowly, like he can hardly bare to hear it out loud from his own telling.

"He...like, he told me I was chubby. And I was, really, I still had some baby fat. He didn't like it, and you know how it is, trying to lose weight at that age. You're pretty much stuck with what you've got. I couldn't make it happen-it just wasn't working. So I quit eating. I lost 30 pounds for him, but it still wasn't right and he still wasn't happy."

"Harry..." Louis feels like everything inside of him is all twisted. He can't stand knowing someone treated someone as kind and pure as Harry like this. It's like being mean to a child: it's unnecessary and cruel and marks them forever.

"And he didn't like me but he stayed with me for a while anyway because he felt bad for me, or something, I guess. But he saw other boys, too. He got their numbers right in front of me, and went out with them and didn't invite me. He said he was just making friends, but I knew. I knew he wasn't."

Harry turns his head to actually look at Louis. Louis can't stand the miserable look on his face. Harry looks like he's spent the last week sitting outside in the cold, freezing and starving.

"And he told me it was all my fault. He said I wasn't enough for him. He said I was immature and dumb and chubby, and that I was lucky he put up with me."

"He was wrong."

Harry looks away. "I know." He looks down at his hands, where he's tearing at his nails. "He wasn't always like that, Lou. We used to be best friends and we did everything together and I still don't know what changed everything, but it's like he took all that time away from me and made it his. And I can't get it back."

They're both quiet for a few minutes. Harry's finally gotten that out in the open between them and he doesn't want to say anything else about it. Louis doesn't know where to even begin.

He finally shuffles closer to Harry on the bed, spreading his blanket over the both of them, leaning into Harry's side.

"You're probably the best person I've ever met, Haz. I can't believe what he gave up. I don't know how anyone could ever treat you like that. You're so lovely, it's almost impossible."

Harry spends a good portion of the remainder of the night crying into Louis' shirt. Louis lets him, and whispers comforts to him, and tries his best to let him know how amazing he really is. He doesn't really think it works, but Harry sleeps for 12 hours straight, so at least something comes from it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry gets back to normal, having opened up and released the dark things hiding inside of him, making him anxious and preventing him from sleeping. If he can't sleep, he goes down to Louis' rooms and crawls into bed with him. Louis sits with him while he blocks and deletes his ex's number from his contacts list. And they talk about everything, really everything now. Louis thinks it might help the both of them. Harry's certainly looking better.

He's so back to himself that he drags Louis out one Friday night.

"Come on, Louuuuuuuu," he pleads. "It'll be fun."

Louis can't say no, which is how he finds himself listening to a drunk Harry Styles go on about Armenia.

"Wassit, like, 1950? The Armenian genocide. The Kardashians are Armenian, aren't they? Can't remember right now. Here-I'll look it up."

Louis watches amusedly as Harry manages to unlock his phone, but can't seem to open his browser to look up the ethnicity of the Kardashians. He doesn't try for too long, apparently interrupted by another thought as he slams his hand down on the table between them. Louis nearly jumps out of his seat at the noise.

"HEY. Czechoslovakia is like, right by Armenia, I think. And like, why did it have to divorce? It's not so fun to just say the Czech Republic. Or just Slovakia. That's really annoying."

Louis can't help his giggles after that. He isn't more than tipsy himself, but Harry's absolutely gone, and he's such a funny drunk, carrying on with his discussion of Armenian history when he remembers what he was originally talking about.

"Anyway, Turkey's been pretty shit to them or something. Won't let them see the mountain. Y'know, I don't even know where I learned this. I'm not a history major. Or like, an international studier or something else." He takes a swallow of whatever he's been drinking all night. "But I can't be arsed to talk about Shakespeare right now."

Louis laughs so hard Harry accuses him of being the most drunk, which makes him laugh even harder. They spend their entire night laughing, to the point where they're still giggling when they sneak into Harry's room trying not to wake Niall (neither remembering that he's gone home for the weekend). It's fun and everything Louis ever wanted with another person. 

He kisses Harry when they get into bed. It surprises both of them, and Louis' scared that Harry will push him away and things will be ruined. Instead, Harry recovers from the shock and smiles cheekily up at Louis. "Been waiting for that." 

"You could have done it yourself." 

"Wasn't sure you wanted it, to be honest." But he leans up and presses his lips to Louis' again, slowly working their mouths together until Louis is comfortably settled over Harry, their bodies pressed snugly together in the little space the twin mattress offers. Louis breaks the kiss after a few moments, not wanting to but making himself do it anyway. "You're too drunk for much more of this."

Hope 'm not too drunk to remember in the morning."

Louis smiles kindly. "I'll be sure to remind you." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Louis wakes up to Harry still pressed against him, but facing away, tapping on a phone with a focused expression. It takes a minute for Louis to recognize the phone as his own. He's about to lean up to question what Harry thinks he's doing, exactly, but then the music starts. It's just guitar in the beginning, but Louis would recognize this song from any snippet of it. It's Clairvoyant, by The Story So Far. It was the last song he'd listened to on his phone, which must have been what Harry was looking for. 

Louis doesn't know if Harry knows he's awake, but they both lay in silence for the duration of the song. For the first time in a long time, Louis really pays attention to the lyrics. He tries to imagine how they must make Harry feel. 

Harry lays quiet for a while after the song has ended, clicking the phone off and setting it back down. Louis almost thinks he's gone back to sleep, but he eventually turns over to look at Louis, who stares back and tries to figure out what's going on in Harry's head. 

"I didn't know you knew that song." God, his morning voice. "It's one of my favorites."

"I love that song." He pauses. "It can be our song."

"It's a breakup song."

"Okay, it can be one of our songs. Not about us, just one that we both like." 

Harry's quiet while he's trying to piece together what he means to say next, only slightly slowed by the fact that he just woke up and he's likely hungover. 

"I like to think that you listen to music that feels like I do, if that makes sense."

Louis blinks at that. "What would I be listening to now, then?"

Harry bites his lip to think. "Junk of the Heart is a pretty good song. Can't seem to remember all the lyrics."

"You're such a little hipster."

Harry smiles gleefully. "You love me anyway."

Louis goes quiet at that. Harry's expression falls.

"Lou?"

Louis smiles gently. "I know what we're going to do today."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tallest public place downtown that they can access without paying (being starving students and all) is a parking structure beside a bank. It's still pretty high up, so Louis remains unperturbed. Harry's pleasantly confused. 

Louis drives them to the very top level, parking near the edge. It's open, so they can feel the morning chill and the early sunlight shines down on them when they step out of the car, walking to the edge of the structure. Louis grabs Harry's hand while they look out over the city that's just waking up. 

People are walking on the sidewalks, going to Starbucks and to their jobs and to the bank and the gym and the post office, as people do. It's peaceful, watching them from above and knowing that today is theirs alone, that they don't have to do anything right now except enjoy being with each other. 

Louis looks over to Harry, who's absolutely glowing in the sun. He looks impossible. He looks like an angel. 

Louis smirks when Harry returns the gaze. "Are you ready?"

"I suppose," Harry replies, having no idea what he's supposed to be ready for. 

Louis grins and looks out over the edge again, over the people and the cars and everything. 

He takes a deep breath. 

"I LOVE HARRY STYLES!" 

Harry, in his surprise, almost reaches over to clap a hand over Louis' mouth. Louis just laughs at him, and at himself and at the little people on the sidewalk who are now looking around to figure out where that had come from. 

"Louis?"

Louis just smiles bigger. 

"HARRY STYLES IS MY FAVORITE PERSON IN THE WHOLE WORLD AND I LOVE HIM A LOT AND I KISSED HIM LAST NIGHT! I KISSED HARRY STYLES!" 

Harry's laughing with him and staring at him in wonder. 

"Lou, are you-"

"Shouting your name from the top of a city? Yep. I LOVE HARRY STYLES AND HE LOOKS LIKE A MERMAID!"

Harry's got a few tears, but he's never smiled so wide. "I LOVE LOUIS TOMLINSON AND HE LOOKS LIKE PETER PAN!"

"HARRY STYLES IS REALLY NICE AND REALLY FUNNY WHEN HE'S DRUNK!"

"LOUIS IS REALLY FUNNY EVEN WHEN HE ISN'T DRUNK!"

"HARRY HAS A REALLY BIG COCK!"

Harry actually does slap a hand over his mouth for that, but they're both laughing too hard to breathe so he ends up just giggling into Louis' neck. 

Louis has never felt more right in his whole life, with a laughing pretty boy that he loves in his arms. 

"The night you read that poem, I think I knew I would eventually be doing this." 

Harry pulls away just enough so they can properly see each other, so Louis can see the smirk on his face for the joke he's about to make. 

"That would mean that you're-"

"Harry, no-"

"Clairvoyant." 

He groans while Harry giggles, but puns and all, Louis' never been happier in all his life.

**Author's Note:**

> storyofmythigh on tumblr.  
> Love love love to all. xxx


End file.
